


Child's Play

by Tehri



Series: Memories of Home [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo's childhood was full of accidental injuries, Dwarves and hobbits raise children differently, Dwarves are very protective of their children, Hobbit children are fearless, Hobbits don't really worry, Mostly his cousins' fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tehri/pseuds/Tehri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a discussion about family and children, the dwarves find out that hobbits have very different methods of raising their children. Needless to say, they're a bit confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Child's Play

Bilbo had said much during their journey so far that had shocked or surprised or angered the dwarves. He quite honestly felt confused about how easy it was to rile them up – or at least the Baggins-side did. The Took-side thought it was hilarious and resolved to do it as often as possible.

But when they took their rest at the foot of the Carrock after escaping the mountains, they spoke of their families, and of children, after Glóin had expressed a deep gratitude for not having his son with him on this quest.

At first, the hobbit had mostly listened to his boisterous companions, smiling softly at the tales they told. Then Glóin said something that surprised him.

“Of course, my wee Gimli is only sixty-two,” the red-haired dwarf had sighed. “He wanted to come so dearly, but he’s still too young.”

“He’s at least twelve years older than me,” Bilbo blurted.

There was a deep silence as the dwarves turned to stare at him, as though they saw him for the first time. Then Fili and Kili wrapped their arms around him, crying out apologies and saying they’d look after him better.

“What on earth are you talking about?!” the hobbit asked as he tried to squirm out of their firm grip. “Oi! Stop blubbering and out with it already!”

“You’re so _young_ ,” Balin said slowly when Fili and Kili weren’t forthcoming. “A lad of fifty, and we brought you along on such a journey…”

Bilbo sputtered and finally shoved the clinging lads off him as he stood up and glared at the rest of the dwarves.

“I am very much _grown up_ , you dolts,” he snapped. “I’m seventeen years past my majority!”

There was a half-choked noise from Glóin at that, and Bilbo was sure that if he had glanced over right then, he would’ve seen the dwarf’s eyes dangerously close to falling out of their skull.

“Wait, you come of age at thirty-three?” Kili asked, and once Bilbo nodded, he let out a disappointed wail. “Why was I not born a hobbit?! I could be taken seriously by now!”

“Not with that attitude, you wouldn’t,” Dwalin rumbled, seemingly more out of habit than anything else.

Bilbo sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Well,” he said. “If your lad is sixty-two, Glóin, why _isn’t_ he here?”

“He’s too young, obviously,” the dwarf said automatically.

“Still twelve years older than me,” the hobbit said with a wry smile.

“Still not an adult among us.”

“You dwarves are strange.”

“He’s still a lad, and he needs to be close to his mother.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

“Why on earth would he need to be close to his mother?” he asked. “Fili and Kili can’t be that much older, not to mention Ori. And none of them hide behind a mother’s skirts.”

“Perhaps master Baggins does not know much of dwarf-children,” Balin said loudly to be heard over the angry protests from his companions. “You see, Bilbo, while dwarflings may be rambunctious to say the least, they often stay close to their parents. It’s safer that way. As for our young lads here, they are quite adult and able to care for themselves.”

The hobbit rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips.

“You’re saying that dwarves don’t often stray from their parents until they’re quite beyond the child-stage,” he said. “That’s utterly ridiculous.” He laughed and nodded to Thorin. “No wonder you have your hands full with your crazy nephews, if they’ve been supervised for most of their life so far! And they _still_ have you glaring at them!”

As though sensing that something was about to happen, Fili and Kili scrambled out of the way moments before their uncle got to his feet (not without flinching, and definitely more slowly than usual) and stalked towards the hobbit.

“And how, pray tell, would you have me handle them?” Thorin ground out, his previous good mood apparently scattered like ashes for the wind. “How would a _hobbit_ handle them?”

“Why, let them run free, of course.”

That comment apparently silenced whatever tirade the regal dwarf had been building up to, because his eyes widened and filled with shock, as though the mere notion of such a thing was utterly preposterous. Bilbo took the opportunity to sit down and stretch out his legs.

“That’s what we do at home,” he explained with a chuckle. “Once our little ones are able to walk and run and talk on their own, they normally leave their parents to go and play with other children. Of course, sometimes a concerned parent will keep an eye on them anyway, but it’s difficult to keep up, really.”

The dwarves glanced around at each other, seeming a bit confused about what to think about this new revelation.

“How in Mahal’s name could that ever be safe?” Dori asked, crossing his arms and throwing quick glances at his brothers, as though to make sure that he really had raised them properly. “Why would you ever let them run about on their own?”

“Because they’re never on their own, of course,” Bilbo said calmly. “They run about in little packs, actually.”

“What, like dogs?”

“Almost. The oldest has responsibility for the younger ones, but we let them run about in their little packs as they please. It’s the easiest way to deal with them.” Bilbo laughed again and shook his head. “It’s quite a sight when a group of ten children race past you, all chattering and shouting, and all with the same goal in mind.”

“It sounds terrifying,” Kili said with a decisive nod.

“So they could just be _anywhere_ , without their parents knowing?” Fili asked slowly.

“Oh, heavens no,” Bilbo grinned. “Hobbit parents always know, my dear lad. They know who their children are wont to run with, and they take good care to find out about their usual haunts. I used to wreak havoc in Hobbiton and Tuckborough with my cousins when I was little, actually, and we never did stray further away from there than the fields around.” He paused and tilted his head. “Scratch that, I think we went to Bywater during some summer visits, too. I remember being pushed into the Bywater pool and being dragged back to dry land by cousin Rory.”

Bilbo leant back against the firm rock behind him and smiled. The dwarves threw quick glances at each other in a manner that the hobbit was quite familiar with by now; it had a tendency to mean “this little thing is nowhere near sane”.

“I really don’t see why you’re so surprised about this,” he sighed. “You had to pass through quite a large bit of the Shire no matter which direction you came from when you went to my home. Are you really all saying that not a one of you saw any children at all?”

“Dwalin was first,” Bofur said slowly. “He might’ve scared them away.”

“Not a chance.” Bilbo grinned up at the tattooed dwarf who made a rude Iglishmêkh-sign in Bofur’s general direction. “You lot were most certainly seen by people, and children in the Shire aren’t easily frightened. I can guarantee that each and every one of you were stalked by a group of giggling children.”

“Come now, Bilbo, we would’ve noticed,” Fili grinned. “What sort of warriors would we be if we didn’t realise we were being followed? And by _children_ no less!”

“The mistake you’re making,” Bilbo chuckled, “is that you assume that our children behave like yours. You should’ve noticed by now that hobbits are good at being quiet. You didn’t know the lay of the land, which they most definitely do. How on earth would you expect to spot them or hear them if _I_ can sneak up on you without even trying?”

 

Once Gandalf got them moving again, Bilbo found himself trying to escape eager questions about child-rearing methods in the Shire. He tried to engage Gandalf in conversation to make himself seem busy, but the wizard was altogether too amused by the situation and was no help at all.

As much as Bilbo liked children, and had enjoyed the shocked looks on the dwarves’ faces, some of their questions were utterly ridiculous.

“But what about their lessons?” Balin had asked.

“Of course they have lessons, there are set times for that,” Bilbo had replied.

“What about weapon-training?” Dwalin had asked.

“Only the Tooks bother with that, and usually only bows or slings,” Bilbo had huffed.

“What about mealtimes?” Bombur asked.

“You could set a clock by a hobbit’s stomach, they’re never late for a meal,” Bilbo had sighed.

In the end, he simply decided to keep a good distance between himself and the dwarves and slowed down until he was a bit behind them all. He’d gotten quite a few questions thrown at him as he did so, but had kept his mouth shut. He’d never guessed that they’d be that interested in hearing about how children were cared for among hobbits.

When they’d walked like this for some time, Bilbo lifted his gaze from his feet and noticed that Thorin was walking beside him. The dwarf gave him a quick glance, and the hobbit forced back an aggravated groan.

“Well, master Oakenshield,” he said, giving his companion a tense smile. “Are you wont to make me feel like hobbits are foolish creatures to treat their children as they do?”

“Far from, master Baggins,” Thorin said curtly. They walked in silence for a while, listening to the chattering of their companions, before he spoke again. “I’m more curious about your own childhood, actually. Did you do that too? Run around in packs with others?”

Bilbo gave the dwarf a long considering look and smiled. Thorin’s manners seemed to have returned by now, at least.

“Well, of course I did,” Bilbo said lightly. “It’s a rather crucial part of how we grow up; it’s how we make our friends as children. If a new child suddenly joins up, no one really questions why, we just say our hello’s and ask for a name and then the game is on.”

“And what if the child’s not really the type others should be around?”

“That’s a bridge to cross once one gets to it.”

Thorin scoffed and shook his head.

“You’re saying you could’ve been running around with less than savoury characters,” he said sharply. “This is what the others mean when they say it’s not safe. What if someone got hurt?”

“What, like me breaking an arm?” Bilbo grinned at the surprised look he got. “I did break my left arm when I was ten, though that was because I fell out of a tree. And to be entirely fair, I was dared to climb up there to fetch a ball.”

“See? This is what I mean!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Cousin Adalgrim threw it up there as a joke. He knew I could get it down without any problems, and I would’ve, if I hadn’t gotten startled.”

“Startled?”

“Well, you see, the tree was on a farmer’s land,” Bilbo explained and shrugged. “And that farmer was used to seeing children sneaking about to nick fruit. So of course he came running, yelling at us to go away. And I was startled, lost my grip and fell.” He laughed. “I got the ball, though. Of course, I cried something awful when I gave it back to Adalgrim, but by then everyone had forgotten about it.”

Thorin gave him an incredulous look. Broken bones was something he’d been taught to never make light of, but here was the hobbit of the Company walking beside him and behaving like it was nothing worse than a skinned knee.

“You broke your arm, Bilbo,” he said slowly. “It can’t have been that easy to deal with for a child.”

“Well, no, it wasn’t,” Bilbo admitted. “It hurt worse than anything I’d ever known back then, and I was crying and calling for my mother. And of course poor master Brownlock was horrified, he’d never intended for anyone to get hurt. So he sent Adalgrim running back to Bag End to tell my parents what had happened, brought out his cart and bundled the rest of us in the back and brought us home.” He chuckled again. “Adalgrim thought he’d never get to look after us again, he just couldn’t stop apologising. And all mother did was smile at me and say that it would be alright, and called me a silly goose for not minding my grip while climbing.”

“Why on earth would you call that good parenting?!”

“Because my father was doing all the worrying for her. He sent cousin Siggy running to fetch Mistress Rose, the healer in Hobbiton, he apologised to master Brownlock for all the trouble, and he kept reassuring Adalgrim that it wasn’t his fault. His mind was running wild, and mother simply knew to be the steady rock through it all.”

He didn’t mention the fear he’d seen in his father’s eyes at the time; Bungo had seen similar injuries before, ones that had healed wrong and never gone away. And he didn’t mention how his mother had collapsed in a chair and cried with relief once Mistress Rose had told them that there shouldn’t be any trouble as long as the arm wasn’t jostled too much.

“It healed well,” he said. “Only trouble I’ve ever had is that it did something to the joints.”

Thorin nodded slowly, still eyeing him with a doubtful look on his face. And Bilbo, being half-Took, could not help but see an opening.

“It gave me something to do that drove father crazy, though,” he grinned. “You see, even though it’s healed well, I can do this.”

He lifted his left arm and stretched it out as much as he could. When he relaxed it and bent it slightly, there was a faint but audible click from his elbow.

Thorin stared at him.

Bilbo grinned and did it again.

“Stop that.”

“Why?”

“Just stop it!”

“Why, does it bother you?”

“Bilbo!”

“You’ll hear it in your darkest dreams.”

“I will break your arm again, you pesky creature!”

“Can’t you hear it? Click-click-click…”

“Mahal’s blessed balls, _stop_ it!”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help it, Bilbo as a child is adorable.


End file.
